


First Kiss

by OhCaptainMyCaptain



Series: Stucky Porn Prompt Challenge [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Horny Teenagers, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Prompt Fic, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rutting, Teenagers, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Warning: NSFW image at the end of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhCaptainMyCaptain/pseuds/OhCaptainMyCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>DAY ONE: FIRST KISS</b>
</p><p><b>Prompt: Steve's and Bucky's first kiss as teenagers, preferably with some sort of Spin the Bottle inclusion, with a happy ending please - since you usually are all angsty and stuff"</b> <em>(That's so true, by the way; can't deny that.)</em></p><p>Steve’s fifteen, and though he’s never played this game before, he’s pretty sure this isn't how the rules go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been sending me prompts, kinks, etc. for this 30 Day Stucky Challenge. I've gotten some really damn good ones, so please continue to send me your requests either here, or on my **[Tumblr](http://ohcaptainmycaptain1918.tumblr.com/)** :)
> 
> **I do not own any characters, settings, plot lines, concepts, or terminology as created, used, and owned by Marvel Entertainment, LLC ®. This is a work of fanfiction. Furthermore, I do not authorize the re-distribution of this story for the purposes of downloading, printing, or posting the story in its entirety on any other websites without first attaining my consent. Thank you.**

**1933**

Steve’s fifteen, and though he’s never played this game before, he’s _pretty_ sure this isn’t how the rules go. Bucky had talked him into coming out for the evening to hang out at Debby Gibson’s place, because as he told him, her parents weren’t home and she was throwing a bit of a party. She had rummaged through her parents’ alcohol collection, which was admittedly limited, and took just a _little_ from the several bottles to make a concoction that could be passed around and sipped on. It tastes disgusting, but they all take their swigs anyways.

Steve drinks namely because _Bucky_ drinks, and he likes watching Bucky drink; the way his lips look with the rim of the cup between them, or the way his throat works when he swallows. Steve’s fifteen and he and Bucky have been best pals since they were fresh out of their toddler years, and he _knows_ that he shouldn’t be finding Bucky’s lips as pretty as he finds girls’.

There’s a group of about ten of them there. They’re all Bucky’s friends from school; by association, Bucky tells Steve that that makes them _his_ friends, too, but Steve knows it doesn’t work that way. Just because he’s always by Bucky Barnes’s side doesn’t mean these other kids like him. On the contrary, he knows it’d be more accurate to assume that they simply _put up_ with him; tolerate him. In a way, that’s fine with Steve. He likes Bucky being the center of his universe.

On the other hand, it stings. Because Bucky _is_ the center of his universe, but Bucky has other friends, other people in his life that he cares about, so Steve knows he isn’t the center of _Bucky’s_. And that tends to make him yearn for more friends of his own to take his mind off of that.

He knows what Spin the Bottle is. When it’s suggested, everyone grins and the girls start giggling, and Steve watches Bucky high five Jeffrey McDonald as he gulps and feels his heart start to pound just a wee bit faster. He can only imagine what they all think of him – that _Steve Rogers_ twerp who’s always trailing on Bucky’s coat tails – but it’s never been said out loud that Steve’s never kissed no one before, and he doesn’t feel like making that information public _now._ The problem is, this puts him in a difficult position. He assumes Bucky will cover for him – maybe talk them _out_ of playing, because Steve isn’t so sure he wants his first kiss to be on display like this for everyone to see – but his best friend seems none the wiser to Steve’s plight. Reluctantly, he takes his seat in the circle and watches everyone take turns spinning the bottle in the center.

Every time it starts to slow, Steve feels his heart beating in his ears, afraid that it will land on him.

For obvious reasons, if a boy lands on another boy, or a girl with another girl, they get to spin again. Within a few minutes, he starts to suspect that they’ve expanded the rules a little bit, because when Marcy Horton lands on Duane Chalmers, they don’t crawl towards each other and give each other a peck over the bottle like Steve thinks they’re supposed to. No, Duane gives the other boys a little smirk and rises to his feet; holding out his hand for Marcy to take. She giggles at the other girls and grabs it, following him out of the room.

Steve watches them go in confusion. Leaning towards Bucky, he asks under his breath, “Where’re they goin’?”

“Debby’s bedroom,” Bucky explains quietly; his own eyes still watching where they’d left, same as everyone else’s. He brings one hand to the side of his mouth and hollers, “GO GET ‘ER, CHALMERS! You got five minutes, beginning now!”

Steve’s cheeks flare. “What’re they doin’ in there?”

Bucky looks at him and gives him a shit-eating grin; one that makes Steve’s tummy flip flop and every time it does, he feels a little more ashamed. “Whaddaya _think_?” Bucky replies conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows. Steve blinks and then turns light pink, dropping his gaze back down to his hands folded tensely on his lap. Bucky watches him and then frowns, quickly glancing around the room. Leaning in, he nudges Steve’s shoulder and mutters, “Just stay calm, Steve. It’s fine. You don’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t wanna do. When it’s your turn, you can just stick to kissin’ if you want. Ain’t no one gonna judge you for that.”

Bucky’s breath smells like liquour. Steve really wants to see if it’d taste the same way on his tongue. He swallows and gives a small nod.

Eventually, when it’s Bucky’s turn, he spins and lands on Debby. Steve’s stomach drops. He knew he’d feel like that no matter _who_ it had landed on, but the fact that it’s Debby makes him feel all the more gutted – namely because Bucky’s had a very open crush on her for weeks. Worse yet, in the last couple of days, it had seemed as though the feeling was becoming mutual. Bucky grins and casts Steve a quick wink before casually getting up and hooking out his elbow.

“Shall we, doll?” he drawls charmingly. The guys laugh and cheer him on while the other girls giggle and roll their eyes. Steve knows they’re all in envy right now; there’s hardly a girl who knows Bucky who isn’t infatuated with him. Debby wraps her arm through his and they disappear out of the room. Steve tries not to let himself feel the way it makes his stomach sink lower when he hears her bedroom door close.

Five minutes seem to last forever. Everyone talks and speculates how far the two are getting. Steve wishes he could plug his ears but that’d be too obvious. No one talks _to_ him so he settles on looking between everyone and pretending to be interested in listening. He doesn’t want to imagine what’s going on in Debby Gibson’s bedroom right now.

Five minutes passes and they don’t come out. The group gives them a few _more_ minutes, but eventually, _ten_ pass and a couple guys get to their feet and volunteer to go drag them back to the game. They disappear, only to come running back in moments later with excited grins on their faces. They’re laughing; tell the group that they were about to knock on the door when they could hear Deb moaning from the other side.

Everyone erupts into giggles and gossipy chatter – speculating as to what this could possibly mean, _are Bucky and Debby gonna go steady now? Are they gonna be an item?_ – and Steve sits there by himself, wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear. He’s dealt with this all before, over and over, but it doesn’t make it any less painful. Sometimes, he wishes he could flat out just _ask_ Bucky to stop chasing skirts around him, but he knows he could never do that. It’d make no sense; Steve would need to provide some sort of reasoning, and there’s no way he could without having to voice the horrible, dirty, _sinful_ thoughts he’s had for the past few years.

He considers just getting up and going home, but then Bucky’s staggering back into the room again with a dopey grin on his face. His hair is mussed up and half of his shirt is hanging out from the waistline of his slacks. Debby comes in after him and the other girls snicker.

“Shut up,” she snaps, but she has a satiated little smile on her lips as she sits back down amongst her friends. A few of the guys bust Bucky’s chops and ask to know how far they went but Debby points and snaps, “Don’t you dare!” So Bucky just grins and throws his hands up, answering them with, “I don’t kiss n’ tell, boys!”

“Yes you do,” Steve mutters under his breath (no one hears him; he’s invisible). He _wishes_ Bucky wouldn’t.

Bucky sits back down and slaps a hand onto Steve’s back, gripping the back of his neck and shaking a bit, proudly. Steve meets his gaze and Bucky’s all grins and giddiness. Steve forces himself to smile back (and ignore the way the corner of Bucky’s mouth and chin looks suspiciously glossy and wet; a spot Bucky forgot to wipe up when he and Deb had finished _whatever_ it was they’d done).

“Alright, it’s Rogers’s turn.”

“Rogers, spin the bottle.”

Steve blinks out of his stupor and stammers a bit; not having realized it was his turn so soon. “It’ll be fine,” Bucky says under his breath, sensing Steve’s nervousness.

“Yuck, he’d better not land on me,” Sarah Taylor mumbles to Marcy. Steve doesn’t catch it because of his stunted hearing, but Bucky quickly points to her and says with mock seriousness, “You watch it, young lady!” They giggle, not realizing that Bucky was more serious than he let on.

Taking a shallow breath, Steve reaches out and curls his hand over the body of the empty soda bottle. He spins it a bit too hard and it slides in a diagonal out of the center, hitting Joey Douglas’s shin. They mock Steve in that way kids do where it _seems_ harmless – like they’re laughing _with_ him, instead of _at_ him – as they reposition the bottle back in the middle of the circle.

“Alright guys, knock it off,” Bucky says lightheartedly, but with just an _edge_ of something protective in his tone. He gives Steve a warm, reassuring smile and encourages, “Try again, it’s fine.”

 _I don’t want to; just skip me_ , Steve wants to say. But he knows he can’t; he doesn’t need to give them _more_ of a reason to think he’s a loser. So he sighs and spins it again. He’s both relieved and horrified that it stays where it is this time and starts spinning hypnotically. For a few seconds, they all go quiet. It goes _round_ and _round_ , and Steve wishes _harder_ that he could sink into the floor before it stops.

Unfortunately, he’s still sitting right there when the bottle finally comes to a still – the tip pointed directly at Bucky.

Steve’s heart stops. He stares at it – can suddenly feel how close Bucky’s sitting next to him – and wonders if he looks as pale as he now feels. For a moment, no one says anything. Then the entire room erupts into chatter.

“Kiss him!”

“Yeah, Barnes, you two are always joined at the hip anyways!”

“No, that’s not how the game works.”

“Stop it, boys – Steve has to spin again!”

“C’moooooon, _do it_ , Rogers!”

“No boys kissing boys, that’s the rule.”

“Lay one on ‘im, big guy!”

The boys make kissy noises while the girls groan and roll their eyes, telling them to shut up but fighting the giggles themselves. Bucky chuckles under his breath, still looking at the bottle, but something about it sounds off. He looks to Steve and neither say anything. Steve feels like he’s about to pass out.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky jokes harmlessly, trying to lighten the mood and get Steve to laugh. He clears his throat and then makes a show of batting his eyelashes. Everyone around them laughs harder, and the goading continues. Steve wishes Bucky wouldn’t do that; his eyelashes are so darn _pretty_. But the charade isn’t over yet, because Bucky pretends to bashfully lift a shoulder up and rest the side of his chin against it, looking up at Steve through those eyelashes as he playfully says, “ _Kiss_ me.”

And Steve must be a _real_ idiot, must really be hypnotized bad, because he actually starts to lean in.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he drops all pretenses, abruptly leaning back. Immediately, the ruckus from the others stops and they’re left with nothing but dead air. Steve realizes his mistake and halts before blinking and leaning away, horrified.

“I – I didn’t – I wasn’t going to--” he stammers, face turning bright red.

“The _fuck_ was _that?_ ” Jeffrey says incredulously. Michael Peters lets out a loud, cold laugh and keels over on the floor.

“Rogers was about to kiss Barnes!” he shouts between loud chortles of laughter, and then _everyone_ is back in arms again. Some of them look too mortified to speak; shocked into silence by what just happened. Others mutter under their breath mean, _cruel_ things, things like _that’s fuckin’ sick, always knew there was somethin’ off about that kid, he’s a fuckin’ invert, man, don’t want no fairy hangin’ round us_. It’s barely audible against the hysterical laughter and taunting comments from a few of the other guys.

Steve looks across the floor frantically, his breath coming out much quicker now. Everything sounds further away and his heart rate is too quick and it’s a panic attack coming on, which will _surely_ bring on his asthma, and he wishes he were dreaming or that he could sink away into the floor or actually _be_ invisible for a change but no – he’s right here and he’s living a nightmare.

Bucky continues to stare at him; face painted in surprise and what looks like concern. His brows are knit and his eyes, question marks. He faintly hears the things being said around them and so he mutters, “Shut up.” Clearing his throat, he looks to the others and barks, “ _Hey_ , I said _can it!”_

He looks back to his best friend worriedly. “Steve,” he says slowly, but then the blond is jumping to his feet. His legs are wobbly and if he doesn’t hurry, he might collapse before he reaches the door. Steve can’t look at Bucky and he can’t meet anyone else’s eyes either. Opening his mouth to say something, he finds he doesn’t have the air for words, so he just closes it and bolts from the room and straight out the front door of the house.

Bucky doesn’t come chasing after him and he can’t say he’s surprised. Why would he? What he’d almost done was horrible, and he’d be _lucky_ if Bucky didn’t deck him when – _if?-_ they saw each other again. He counts his lucky stars that he doesn’t succumb to an asthma attack on the walk back to his house, but he hugs his body and keeps his eyes on the ground the entire way back. It doesn’t matter how hard he holds himself, he continues to shake.

* * *

He falls asleep face-down in his tiny bed, having been so exhausted and heartbroken from the whole thing that it’d only taken him _minutes_ after arriving home for him to pass out. He’s awoken to the sound of his window opening and the creaking of footsteps. Jerking awake, he flips over with a sharp inhale and Bucky throws his hands up quickly. 

“Whoah, hey, it’s just me,” he says gently before turning and closing the window. “Your front door was locked.”

Bucky sneaking in through his window isn’t exactly anything new; he’d been doing it for as long as he’d been tall enough to jump from the top of the garbage can to the ladder, using his upper body strength to get the first few bars so his feet could catch up and he could climb the railing to Steve’s bedroom.

“What’re you doing here?” Steve croaks, pressing the heel of his hand to one eye and rubbing the sleep out of it. His voice is worn out as if from crying, even though he’d been doing _no_ such thing.

Bucky looks around Steve’s room before meeting his gaze and shrugging. “Was s’pposed to stay the night, remember?”

That’s right. Sarah was working the late shift over at the hospital, which meant Bucky was crashing at Steve’s place. Steve’s always been convinced that his mother must’ve made some sort of secret agreement with Bucky that this would happen whenever she couldn’t be there. Steve knows they both fuss and worry over him – more than they should, in his mind – so he never presses the matter. Besides, he _never_ argued with having Bucky stay over.

Except--

“You think that’s a good idea after--?”

“We don’t gotta talk about that, Stevie,” Bucky replies casually, pulling his jacket off and kneeling to undo his boots. He looks at Steve as if _nothing at all_ happened, grinning as he stands and kicks them off.

“You’re picking those up,” Steve mutters, watching one fly to one corner of his small room while the other flips in the air and lands an unimpressive foot to Bucky’s left. The brunet always likes making a spectacle of things. It’s both annoying, unnecessary, and _the most adorable thing Steve’s ever seen._ Steve frowns and sits up with his feet over the edge of the bed as Bucky rolls his eyes and retrieves his boots. He lines them up neatly, side by side, against the wall.

“Better, _ma?_ ” he asks sarcastically.

Steve stares at the boots and just shrugs. “Sure,” he mumbles.

Bucky frowns and straightens. “Hey, you okay?” He comes over and sits down next to Steve on the bed. Steve refuses to meet his eye, so Bucky throws an arm over his shoulder and shakes him lightly. Steve wishes he wouldn’t do that because it feels so _nice_ and _safe_ there.

“Hey, buddy, what’s goin’ on?” Bucky presses. “C’mon, you can talk to me. You still on about what happened earlier? ‘Cause it’s fine, y’know; I explained to everyone else that you’d just never played before, and you were nervous.” He grins, trying to lighten things. “I made it _very_ clear to them that you ain’t no queer, and if they ever called you that again, I’d make ‘em regret it.”

And that, Steve figures, is supposed to make him feel better, isn’t it? Except it doesn’t – it makes everything that much worse. Because Bucky, he’s sitting there sounding so _proud_ of disparaging claims of Steve’s sexual preferences – proving him out to be _normal_ – and it only weighs on Steve’s mind _more_ the fact that apparently, he’s _not._ If he was, he wouldn’t be having such impure thoughts about any fella, let alone his best friend.

“I don’t know what I was thinkin’,” he says dejectedly, looking away and scowling lightly. “Was such an idiot.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Bucky reassures him obliviously. He chuckles. “The first time _I_ played, I burped in the girl’s face, I was so nervous.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and glances at him. “You did?”

Bucky pauses and then grins, shrugging once. “Nah, not really, but the _point_ is, not everyone gets it right every time. It was your first time playin’ and it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone gets nervous. Least that wouldn’t have been your first kiss or nothin’ – _yeesh_ , could you imagine?”

Steve freezes and stares down at the ground. Bucky’s chuckles peter out when he sees Steve’s face and realizes the blond isn’t laughing. His brows crease. “Steve? You _have_ kissed a girl before, right?”

Steve grimaces and stares daggers at one little crack in the floor. If only it could get bigger so he could slink away inside of it. He’s not sure where his sudden desire to disappear in floors came from, but now he’s also developing a dislike for them because they never seem to _listen_ to him when he needs to escape most.

“Steve?”

“You know I tell you everythin’, Buck,” Steve mutters, bitterly and self-deprecatingly.  

Bucky shakes his head. “Well, I mean… not _everythin’_?”

“Pretty much everythin’. _When_ would I have been out mackin’ on girls? If I’m not with you, I’m at home,” Steve huffs.

Bucky looks like he can’t believe his ears. He looks ahead and runs his free hand through his hair – a habit from childhood he’s never outgrown – while he untangles his other arm from around Steve’s bony shoulders. They sit side by side, staring ahead. Steve feels their arms and legs touching and wills that crack in the floor to get _bigger_ , because the close proximity is making a very unwelcoming heat start to gather in the pit of his belly.

“You really never kissed no one before?” he asks, breaking the silence after a solid minute or so.

Having to basically repeat himself _again_ only makes Steve feel worse about himself. “ _No_ , Buck, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Can we talk about somethin’ else?”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says quickly. But it’s only _seconds_ before he blurts, “I just always _thought_ , you know, that you’d done it before.”

“With _who_ , Buck? With all the girls you introduce me to who pay no attention to me? You know they only ever want you.” He kicks at an invisible spot on the floor absentmindedly and sighs.

Bucky looks to him guiltily. Yeah, he knows; it’s a stupid question, really. When he really thinks about it, he can’t really think of a logical way to explain Steve going through his first kiss and _not_ _telling_ Bucky about it. And yeah, he knows that they’ve never met a girl who’s shown interest in his best friend before. _Why_ _not_ , Bucky has no idea, because he just about thinks the sun shines out of his ass. But still… The idea that Steve’s already fifteen and never had his first kiss leaves Bucky feeling… well, like he’s _failed_ Steve as his best friend.

These are the sorts of things he’s supposed to _help_ Steve get through.

Making up his mind, Bucky gets up and walks over to his worn out knapsack that he’d put on the floor. He reaches in and then pulls out the empty soda bottle from earlier. Steve frowns as it curiously and tilts his head. Bucky holds it up and shrugs, saying, “I thought we could go and smash it together or somethin’. Sort of like a ‘fuck you’ to all them for laughin’ at ya.”

Steve’s surprised when Bucky suddenly lowers himself to the floor and places the bottle in front of him. He stares at it for a while – face looking unsure and almost _nervous_ – before he peers up at Steve and gestures to it. “It was still your turn.”

And in all the dreams and all the fantasies and all the thoughts Steve has ever had in his head about Bucky over the years, _none_ of them had started off like this. At first, he thinks Bucky is mocking him, so he huffs out an indignant sound and snaps that what Bucky’s doing isn’t funny. Bucky just regards him patiently with a soft expression, and then reaches out and says, “Fine, I’ll spin it for you.”

So he does. They watch it twirl and that shuts Steve right up. It stops, pointing at the foot of his bed and definitely _not_ on Bucky. Bucky inhales slowly and then lets it out, looking back to Steve expectantly. “It didn’t land on anyone. You’re gonna have to try again.”

Steve doesn’t know what sort of stunt Bucky’s trying to pull, because there’s _no way_ Bucky’s suggesting what Steve thinks he’s suggesting, _there’s just no way._ Still, he sighs and slides down to the floor, sitting opposite Bucky. With little enthusiasm, he spins the bottle again. It lands pointing to the door. Bucky calmly insists Steve try again. Steve’s frown deepens every single time the bottle stops and misses Bucky, and deepens even _more_ every time Bucky encourages him to give it another go. He can’t figure out what Bucky’s trying to achieve here.

On the sixth spin, it slows and comes full stop, pointing at Bucky’s knee. They stare at it, as if somehow expecting it to _keep going_ and land elsewhere, but there it is. Bucky plasters on a small, casual smile that Steve can _see_ isn’t as confident as it looks before picking up the bottle and sitting it upright away from them.

“You, uh, you were about to finish your turn earlier,” Bucky says quietly, leaning onto his hands and crawling closer to Steve. Steve _wishes he wouldn’t do that_ , because he’s thinking things that will send him straight to Hell. There’s something apprehensive about Bucky’s movements; actions that are usually so suave and calculated seem almost _considerate_ and _tentative_ now. The older boy stops in front of Steve and then plants his butt on the floor, crossing his long legs so their knees are touching. He rests his forearms on his thighs and gives Steve another tiny, reassuring small.

“Bucky, I’m not sure what exactly you think I’m about to--”

“Rules are rules, Steve,” Bucky answers. “You have to kiss whoever the bottle lands on, and you spun and it landed on me, fair and square.”

“The rules _also_ say that boys don’t kiss boys if the bottle lands on ‘em.”

“Says who?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Says _everyone_ back at Debby’s.”

Bucky presses his lips in a firm line and then makes a point of glancing around the room. “Are they here?” he asks.

“No,” Steve answers with exasperation.

Bucky glances at him intently. “Then the rules are whatever _we_ say they are. And _I_ say that the traditional rules state that you kiss whoever the bottle _lands_ on.”

Steve starts to feel as though he’s being backed into a corner. Anxiety fills him and he breaks eye contact to stare at the small patch of floor between their crossed legs. Maybe if it swallowed him up now, it’d take Bucky with him. That might not be so bad.

“Why’re you doin’ this?” he asks quietly.

“Friends help each other,” Bucky answers softly. When Steve looks up at him, Bucky gives him a small smile. “When you finally kiss a dame you like, it should be special. I know that sort of thing means a lot to you. Practice makes perfect, don’t it? At least you can say this way that you’ve had your first kiss; you just don’t gotta say _who_ it was with.”

 _Except I want to be able to_ , Steve thinks sadly. But he sees the determination in Bucky’s eyes – that incessant drive to _help_ Steve, to help take care of him and guide him through the world, even if Steve doesn’t need anyone’s help as badly as Bucky always seems to think he does.

“Fine,” he sighs.

Bucky nods, clearing his throat. “Okay,” he says, just above a whisper; like this is the world’s most elusive secret that he’s trusting Steve with. Perhaps, in a way, it is. “Um… Alright, how do you wanna do this?”

“You’re askin’ _me?_ ” Steve asks, appalled and horrified. As if his inexperience could be rubbed in any deeper.

Bucky holds up his hands. “Okay, okay, calm down; was just _askin’_ , Christ.” He takes a deep breath, and then tells Steve to do the same. It’s a good thing, too, because the blond realizes he’d stopped actually breathing. “Just… follow my lead,” Bucky says, and then sweeps his eyes to Steve’s mouth ( _nervously? He looks nervous_ ) before beginning to lean in.

Steve watches him, and he must be dreaming, he _has_ to be, and this is usually the part where he wakes up. He braces himself for it, _wake up_ , _okay, any second now_ , but nothing happens. Nothing happens, and Bucky draws closer, and Steve’s heart is in his throat but its pulse is in his ears, and does he even have any _air_ left in his lungs? He isn’t sure, but apparently that’s not a problem because Bucky’s getting so close now that Steve can feel the older boy’s breath exhale against his face. He smells like cigarettes and liquor, and somehow in that moment, it’s the sweetest thing Steve has ever smelled.

_Wake up… You’re dreaming…_

Except he isn’t. Because his dreams never let it get this far; never progress until Bucky’s closing his eyes and continuing to draw closer, and Steve doesn’t know what to do. Well, he _knows_ , ‘cause he’s seen Bucky do it with other people dozens of times, but it’s so different when it’s actually _your_ turn.

“Lean in and kiss me, Stevie,” Bucky whispers soothingly, instructing him, and his lips are _so_ close now and _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_ , his eyes are still closed and his eyelashes are so darn _long_ , and Steve can see every pore on Bucky’s skin. Jumping slightly, he hastily squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips a _bit_ too much, but he tilts his chin up, and right at that moment, Bucky closes the gap and presses his mouth to Steve’s.

It’s awkward and Bucky’s mouth is relaxed while Steve’s is a bit too pursed, causing Bucky to laugh into the kiss. Steve feels his ears burn. It only lasts a second before the brunet pulls back – but not too far, Steve notices.

“Take a breath,” Bucky instructs. Steve does as he’s told; it comes out shaky. Bucky brings up one hand and presses his thumb to Steve’s lips, and _oh Hell_ , he ignites everywhere. Bucky sees the way Steve’s pupils suddenly expand at the touch, and a throb pulses through his dick unexpectedly.

“Your lips, they’re, uh… a bit too tight. They don’t gotta be so tight,” he says gently. He presses his thumb to Steve’s lips and gently pulls the bottom one away from the top. “Just like that.” Clearing his throat, he pulls his hand away; grey orbs lingering on those slightly parted lips. “Let’s try again, yeah?”

Steve stares at him in a stunned silence, unable to speak or nod or even breathe again, he thinks. Bucky leans back in and their mouth reconnect. It’s softer this time and Steve’s head spins. Bucky’s mouth is just as warm and plush as it’s always looked, and he opens his eyes a sliver to get a look at his face. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because Bucky, with his eyes closed and still feeling that gentle press against his own mouth, looks more beautiful than Steve’s ever seen him.

He almost whines when Bucky breaks it off a second time. It didn’t last _nearly_ as long as he would’ve liked and _doesn’t Bucky know what he’s doing to him, it isn’t fair, doesn’t he realize--_

“Maybe try it like this,” Bucky breathes, voice low, and cuts off Steve’s thoughts when not only is Bucky kissing him again with just the tiniest bit more force, but he feels his _tongue_ touching the seam of his lips lightly.

Exhaling unsteadily, Steve parts his lips and feels as Bucky’s tongue slides into his mouth and touch his own. A hand - fingers - they touch the side of his face, and suddenly they’re cupping his jaw, and Steve throws up a hand of his own and grabs onto the side of Bucky’s neck. He leans forward and pushes his tongue to Bucky’s a bit too excitedly. Bucky chuckles again and retracts, breathing huskily, “Bit less tongue,” before tilting his face to the other side and kissing Steve heatedly again.

Steve flies to the opposite end of the spectrum, giving only the tiniest bit. “Okay, bit _more_ tongue now,” Bucky laughs, and then Steve feels his prick give a sporadic twitch when he does as Bucky says and Bucky _moans_ in his mouth.

“Better,” Bucky breathes, smiling, and then he shuts right up; presses in harder and tightens his grip on the side of Steve’s face. Steve isn’t quite sure what’s happening or _why_ , but as the seconds bleed into minutes, the kisses get faster and they get rougher. There are teeth involved, and when Bucky gives an experimental nip to Steve’s bottom lip, the blond arches towards his best friend and gasps.

It get sloppier when Bucky surges forward, brain fuzzy, and Steve quickly lowers himself onto his back. Steve has no idea what he’s doing, and at this point, neither does Bucky, but they don’t stop kissing even as Bucky positions himself between Steve’s thighs. Their lips are spit-slick and swollen, and not there’s _far_ too much tongue and heavy panting, but Bucky’s just as guilty of it, too, and Steve never wants him to stop.

His legs are spread uselessly on either side of Bucky’s body, heels sliding around on the floor as he fails to figure out what to do with himself. Bucky clutches onto him tight as he starts to rock his hips instinctively against Steve’s. At first, the blond is terrified at Bucky pressing down on his erection because what happens if it disgusts him, how hard Steve is for him? But that thought vanishes the second he feels the rock-hard weight of Bucky’s own cock grinding right back down.

Bucky’s _hard_ \- for _him_ , _goodness._

Bucky’s tongue practically fucks in and out of Steve’s mouth as he ruts against him like a dog in heat, and all Steve can do is moan in surprised confusion and hastily rub his tongue to Bucky’s whenever he can gather his wits enough to think of doing it. Bucky pulls back, grunting deep in his throat.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes squeezed closed and hips still rolling, faster and harder, _faster and harder._

Steve stares up at him because _what else can he do but be a passenger?_ Mesmerized, he exhales a shaky breath and brings his hand up, touching Bucky’s cheek and running his thumb over his lips just as Bucky had to him. The heat in his groin has culminated far too soon, but it’s too much, and too unexpected, and this is _Bucky_ , and right now, Steve’s living out about fifty of his fantasies rolled into one. The fact that he hadn’t shot in his pants the second Bucky’s mouth was on his is a miracle in and of itself.

He lets out a little sound in his throat, clenching his clothed thighs to Bucky’s hips. Bucky seems to get the message, bearing himself down even harder. The room is filled with the sounds of panting and gasping and quiet moans – and the floor boards creaking beneath them. Steve has never been happier that his ma is at work and that the little house his pa had left behind for them is empty.

Bucky stares down at him. His own pupils are fucked but even with hooded lids, he stares down at Steve as if seeing him for the first time. His cheeks are flushed, and there’s a slight glisten to the skin of his forehead that reveals his commitment to the act. They lock eyes and Steve wants to warn Bucky that he’s about to come, but the way Bucky’s staring at him freezes him all over. He _tries_ , he really does, but all he can do is moan helplessly.

The second Bucky’s lips part against Steve’s thumb and close over it, giving it a small suck, Steve explodes. The combination of the hot, wet suction around his thumb and the aching, hard friction against his dick is too much. He snaps his hand away to fist the front of Bucky’s shirt as he squeezes he eyes shut and grits his teeth as he climaxes. He can feel the warm wetness fill his underwear and streak across the skin of his pubic bone. Bucky doesn’t stop thrusting his hips as he watches Steve in wonder.

But Steve suspects that he must’ve pushed his best friend over the edge, because suddenly Bucky drops back down and rests his forearms next to Steve’s sides. With one hand, he grabs one of the blond’s thighs and tugs it closer to him, burying his face into Steve’s neck with a heavy pant. He rocks feverishly, no finesse or rhythm to speak of – just a horny teenager desperate to chase the orgasm now lingering right there on the precipice; his to take.

Steve tilts his head back, eyes still closed. He throws his arms around Bucky and hugs the bigger body to his, even though the weight makes it a bit more difficult to breathe. He can feel the rush of hot air against his skin when Bucky’s mouth drops open and he starts to exhale moans with every breath. They’re honestly the most beautiful, most vulnerable sounds Steve’s ever heard Bucky make. Bucky grinds down twice, _three times_ , before stilling on the fourth and releasing a full body shudder in Steve’s arms. A choked sound gets caught in his throat but then Bucky’s silent; face twisted in pleasure, a silent scream into Steve’s pale neck before slumping against him.

Bucky’s brain is foggy, but he’s mindful enough to roll himself to Steve’s side so the majority of his weight isn’t bearing down on the blond’s tiny chest. He keeps one arm slung lazily over Steve’s middle; burying his face back into where Steve’s neck meets his shoulder, as if what they’d just done was the most _normal_ thing in the world. The more Steve comes down from his high and catches his breath, the more he realizes just how badly that couldn’t be _farther_ from the truth.

“You okay?” Bucky pants, still taking deep breaths himself. To Steve’s surprise, he feels Bucky’s swollen lips press a few noisy kisses to the side of his throat.

“Yeah…” Steve exhales slowly; browns furrowed. _Is he?_ Are _they?_ What was that even supposed to mean?

“I may need to borrow a clean pair of underwear,” Bucky laughs casually, and the sound is slightly muffled.

“What’d we do?” Steve whispers.

Bucky pulls back, smile dropping. He looks confused; like he doesn’t understand why this is such a big deal. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Why did we just do that?” Steve asks nervously, tilting his head and looking to him. Nothing about the situation makes any sense and yet Bucky’s _joking_ about needing a clean pair of underwear?

Bucky frowns. “I don’t understand.” His eyes grow wider. “Wait, did you – did you not _want_ that? Oh, _Christ,_ Steve,” he groans, sitting up with a horrified expression and shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m so fucking sorry, man, I didn’t – you should’ve – _why_ didn’t you tell me to stop? I thought you just – I mean, I thought you _wanted_ this.”

Now _Steve’s_ the one confused. “Whoah, wait, hold your horses,” he says quickly, sitting up as well. Bucky gives him a pained look, like he just went and _really_ fucked up, and Steve feels hope fluttering like crazy in his chest. “I just wanna make sure you weren’t just tryin’ to do me no favours.”

Bucky stares at him and then lets out a distressed chuckle, letting the words sink in. He drops his head in his hands and shakes it, sighing loudly, before turning and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “You’re a dingus,” he says firmly, but already one corner of his mouth is curling up into a relieved grin. “I wouldn’t just go and kiss just _anyone_ , y’know. Whatever you may think you know, I only do somethin’ like that if I’m interested.”

“Like you were interested in Debby earlier?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky’s grin doesn’t falter. “C’mon buddy, you know how it is. But, between you and me,” he leans in and purposely makes a point to stare at Steve’s lips before dragging up his eyes to meet baby blues. “I thought of you the whole time I was in there. Don’t tell no one, ‘kay?”

Steve’s mouth goes dry and he gulps. “Why did you never tell me before?”

Bucky shrugs and traces his thumb around the ring of Steve’s mouth. There’s a gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Wasn’t sure if you could ever feel the same way. C’mon Stevie, you know you’ve always been my best guy; would’a kissed you when the bottle landed on me the _first_ time if all those people hadn’t been there.”

Steve chuckles nervously; feeling more like a flustered dame than anything else. He clears his throat to get back some of his stability and then retorts, “That your way of tellin’ me you’re _sweet_ on me, Barnes?”

Bucky pretends to think about it, humming loudly and looking away. He then looks down to his wrist to glance at the time on his nonexistent watch. “When’s your ma gonna be home?”

“Uh… around 11:30, why?”

Bucky grins and leans back in. “Because we’re gonna get some food in ya and clean ourselves up,” Bucky purrs before pressing his lips back to Steve’s, “and then I got _so_ much more to teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Stucky photo for today:
> 
> Source: [Stevebuckypornlookalikes.tumblr](http://stevebuckypornlookalikes.tumblr.com/post/72742288841)
> 
> WARNING: From here on out, pretty much all of the upcoming one shots will be _very_ Explicit in nature. This is so damn light for my standards, haha. But my friend REALLY wanted it to be more fluffy than pornographic, so, what can ya do? :P


End file.
